


crowns

by rycnbergara



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Almost Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Andrew Ilnyckyj / Chantel Houston (past), False Identity, Gay, Individually, M/M, Royalty, Standrew - Freeform, Steven Lim / Andrew Ilnyckyj, Their parents are awesome, i guess great minds think alike huh, off they go, princes to kings, shyan, so much gay tbh, the author had so much fun writing this, they RUN
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-03 15:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rycnbergara/pseuds/rycnbergara
Summary: ryan decides marrying a stranger doesn't appeal to him. let alone a female one.shane also doesn't want to marry a stranger - he's been placed in the midst of this alliance by marriage in place of his sister.neither know what to do anymore, so they run away.until everything feels like coming home when they meet a random stranger at a bar in the village.





	1. Chapter 1

The snowdrops were beautiful this time of year, dispersed through the grounds of the castle as if crouched from the sun, huddled together in the cold, seeking comfort from the shelter of the pine trees. In the distance, gentle puffs of firesmoke wafted through the air from the local village, combining with the scattered clouds to create a haze that the sun was desperately trying to break through.

 

Prince Ryan stared out, his gloved hands gripping the balcony railing so hard he knew his knuckles would be white if he could see them. His breath fogged in the air as he sighed, preparing for a formal meeting with his father at 13.00. He paid attention to the clock on the tower opposite his bedroom – there was one on the fireplace in his bedchamber, too, a luxury for the era, or so said his mother – as the minutes ticked closer.

 

He knew exactly what the meeting was about, of course. He had organised it. The kingdom the Bergaras ruled over – Quintinia, named after a young sorceress who had met some cruel fate centuries ago - was struggling for military power. The threat of an attack from their enemy kingdoms were more overpowering as of recent and their people, as well as all those in court, were terrified. The only way out was to make an alliance with another kingdom, and that kingdom was Sarana.

 

Ryan was the crown prince. He knew it came down to him. It was fair to say he had a few concerns.

 

He had heard some about the Madejs. King Mark, and his wife, Queen Cheryl, their two sons and a daughter – he didn’t know their names. Their kingdom was Sarana, and it was slightly larger than Quintinia – with better military powers. King Steve, his father, wanted desperately for this alliance, but King Mark would only accept one through marriage. At this point, he was considering fleeing the castle – marrying a stranger, a female one at that, did not appeal to him in any way, shape or form. A case remained packed and ready under his bed – he just didn’t have the courage to leave yet.

 

“Your Highness?”

 

Ryan whipped around. Through the doorway, standing in his room was one of the kitchen servants, Brent, nervously fidgeting with his hands.

 

“Yes?” Ryan wasn’t usually rude to the servants, but this boy annoyed him. He often left tasks unfinished, which drove Ryan up the wall.

 

“Queen Sophie has requested to see you.”

 

“Very well. Get back to the kitchens, I’ll go to her myself.”

 

“Yes, your Highness.”

 

And with that, Brent was gone. Ryan sighed, adjusting his breeches and fixing his hair before he left the room, ghosting his fingers over the elaborate interior walls of the castle on the way to his mother’s room.

 

Surprisingly, he got on rather well with his family. His father, he could laugh with, and one could bet, that whenever Ryan’s mother summoned a tailor for new underpants, King Steve would be chuckling about it somewhere in the castle. Not to mention when the local villagers would flock to the castle for the King’s deliberation over their court cases, Ryan would look into the desperate eyes of the crazy ones, then the expression on his father’s face, before snickering so much that Guard Fulmer would have no choice but to remove him from the room, with deepest respects, of course.

 

His mother, he absolutely adored. She commanded the respect of every person in the castle as she sauntered through, her skirts flowing behind her as she held her chin up high. Nobody dared mess with Queen Sophie, and she upheld such a reputation with pride. Nobody messed with her sons or daughter, either, and she ensured that completely.

 

When he reached her room, his mother was sitting before her mirror when he arrived at her room, pressing her lips together to even out the coat of whatever she had just put on them. She saw his reflection in the doorway, and turned to him with a warm smile.

 

“Darling! Come, sit.”

 

“Hi, Mum.”

 

Her smile didn’t fade as she watched his reflection in the mirror, but he knew his mother better than the lords and ladies she was used to lying to. He knew her tells, and her nervous breaths and the look in her eyes betrayed her.

 

“You know what your father wishes to discuss…?”

 

Ryan’s breath hitched. He watched her with pleading eyes. “Princess Kelsey? Mum, I can’t-”

 

“It might be out of my hands, honey, it’ll be up to your father and King Mark.” She sighed, clearly hesitant to say what was on the tip of her tongue. “You’re so young, and you don’t want to marry a stranger-”

 

Ryan sighed loudly. “Yes, of course I don’t want to marry a stranger, let alone a _girl-”_

 

The words were out of Ryan’s mouth before he could stop himself. Queen Sophie started as Ryan’s hands flew to his mouth in shock. He’d been sitting on that secret for almost his whole life, his younger siblings had been the only two that knew. But now his mother knew as well, and he couldn’t gauge her reaction as she displayed no shock or any kind of reaction at all. She watched him intensely through the mirror, meeting his eyes.

 

“So, tell your father that.”

 

“Tell him that?!”

 

“Yes, as easily as you just told me. Tell him you’re not marrying a girl.”

 

“Mum, have you gone _insa-”_

_“Ryan.”_

“Sorry, Mum.” He smiled and shuffled his feet sheepishly, but his eyes were still incredulous as he stared his mother down. “Seriously, though. The crown prince, not marrying a girl? He won’t accept that for an answer.”

 

“You don’t know him like I do. We were engaged when we were thirteen, married at nineteen. I know every nook and cranny of that man’s mind.” She chuckled, leading Ryan to laugh nervously as well. She wandered over to him, fixing his collar and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. “Honey, you can tell him.”

 

Ryan sighed loudly, before nodding. The Queen smiled. “Go. It’s almost time for you to meet him.” She spun him around and gave a gentle push towards the door.

 

“Thanks, Mum.”

 

“Anytime, sweetpea.”

 

***

 

Prince Shane wandered through the castle, indignantly pulling pieces of eggshell from his hair and cursing under his breath.

 

“Kels!” He bellowed when he was outside his older sister’s door.

 

“What?!”

 

Shane took this as an invitation to enter her room. She was at her desk, writing a letter of sorts, but she looked up and rolled her eyes at him when he stared pointedly at her. “Where’s Finn? I have a bone to pick with him.”

 

“He didn’t do the egg thing again, did he? Little shit.” She laughed, taking a sip of wine. Shane rolled his eyes. At 19, she was old enough to be granted access to alcohol. She was the crown princess, so many visiting lords and ladies, as well as the staff of the castle, had favoured her and allowed her some alcohol, from when she was 16. She knew how to manipulate them, too – with a smile and some polite chatter, the two oldest Madej siblings had worked out how to charm a glass of whatever they fancied into their hands from delighted barons and earls.

 

“Yeah, he did the egg thing.”

 

“Alright, he’s hiding from you in the pantry. You didn’t hear it from me.”

 

“Got it. Thanks, Kels.”

 

She only smiled, rolling her eyes again as he left the room to kick his younger brother’s arse, so to speak.

 

Shane loved his siblings, not that he’d ever tell them. He loved that, though when at parties and balls they had to keep up a façade of poise and elegance, when by themselves in the castle, they could fight and laugh and wreak havoc like regular siblings. He would consider himself closest to his sister, the two growing up extremely close in age and figuring out the whole royalty thing together. Shane wasn’t stupid – he had heard the subdued whispers and hushed rumours – his sister was pretty much betrothed to the crown prince of Quintinia, all that was left was a signed confirmation from both kings and he was pretty sure they would hold an event for the signing. A banquet, fancy (stiff) clothes, and a permission slip to seize his sister from him. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

 

He just wanted her to be safe.

 

 

***

 

Ryan breathed out shakily before raising his trembling hand and knocking three times on the throne room door. He entered on command, meeting the merry eyes of his father who was still rolling up the scrolls from his last meeting, placing them in a box and replacing it with another labelled “Sarana”. Ryan swallowed. He knew what was in the new box.

 

“Ryan, my boy!”

 

“Hi, Dad.” Ryan sighed. It was now or never – he didn’t want to beat around the bush. “Look – about Sarana-”

 

“Ah, yes. Your mother mentioned you may have concerns. Listen, I know marrying a stranger seems daunting –”

 

“No, it…it isn’t just that.” Ryan interjected, cutting off his father, who supplied only a confused look. “Dad, I can’t marry…I can’t marry a girl.”

 

“Would you rather a dog?” King Steve joked, but Ryan gave him a look that said plainly _not the time, Dad,_ so he nodded and shrugged. Ryan shifted his gaze to the floor. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?” Ryan’s head snapped up. His father was grinning like he always did.

 

“Yes. The only one who will be inconvenienced is the rider that has to take this message to King Mark. Other than that, I think – I heard that – maybe – Prince Shane may be inclined that way also. Or maybe it was Prince Finn. I can’t remember.”

 

Ryan chuckled to himself. “Where did you hear that, Dad?”

 

King Steve’s eyes went wide. “Promise you won’t tell?”

 

“Promise…” Ryan said, his eyes crinkled and his expression incredulous.

 

“Sometimes, I hide in the secret nook behind the laundry room to hear the maids’ gossip.” The King confessed, and Ryan laughed so hard he threw his head back, his hands finding his stomach as his dad rolled his eyes. “That’s enough. Now, is that all you were concerned about? Here I thought you might be running away, or something!”

 

Ryan only grinned nervously.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shane signs it. the contract. he signs his freedom away, and with it, ryan's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just quickly would like to thank meg ( @goldsworths on twitter ) for proofreading this!
> 
> secondly, the "kelsie" mentioned is kelsey impicciche, but I've spelt it kelsie so as not to confuse myself and others. that's all! enjoy.

King Mark was in a meeting when the rider came, and so Prince Shane found himself pulling his cloak over his back to meet him outside the steel gate where ice was curling around the bolts and snow blanketing the tops of the railings, obscuring the lands beyond the castle in an opaque haze, for miles; further than Shane could see.

 

He kept his body huddled against the chilling wind, the wind battering his cheeks as he grimaced. He should've sent Finn to do this. The rider was huddled himself against the cold, wrapping a spare cloak over the horse to keep it warm.

 

"Your Majesty. Is the King available?"

 

Shane nearly rolled his eyes. People didn't seem to accept him, he was just as responsible as his father. "No," he snapped, "he's in a meeting with the lords. I can receive the message you wish to convey."

 

The rider seemed to be debating his options at that moment, of which there weren't many. "But... It-it concerns you, sir."

 

"Ever the more reason, then."        

 

The rider sighed, clearly itching to brush past him and find the King, but Shane guessed his ' _don't you dare'_ glower had vastly improved. "King Steve said to bring this straight to King Mark-"

 

Shane reached a freezing hand into his cloak pocket and retrieved several gold coins. He didn't want it to have to come to this, but he showed them to the rider. "Forget what he said."

 

He could see the astonishment flash in the rider's eyes – perhaps he had a wife, or a husband, and kids at home. This amount would feed them for a month, perhaps a bit more, and Shane knew he wouldn't deny it.

 

"Thank you, Your Majesty. Forgive me." He exchanged the scroll for the gold, bidding the young Prince goodbye and riding off into the snow once more. Shane lent up against the gate post, huffing out irritably. The scroll in his hand was light, seemingly unthreatening – a contradiction from the reluctance the rider had to give it to him. Once he had reached the thawing warmth of the entrance hall, Shane began to unfurl it, scanning over King Steve's neat script. His heart sunk as the message sunk in.

 

**_My dear friend Mark,_ **

****

**_I sincerely hope that this news does not ruin the chance of unity between our kingdoms, but it must be said. Recently, my son has brought it to my attention that he desperately wishes not to marry a lady. I'm afraid it is my intention to follow through with his wishes. If you, perchance, have a viable male option for my son to marry, I could not express my gratitude enough._ **

****

**_Yours respectfully,_ **

****

**_Steve_ **

 

Shane was bisexual. Everybody in the family knew it. He was the viable option his father would put forward, and now he was marrying a stranger instead of his sister. It meant Kelsey was safe, for now – but not for long, until the next time they have to unite a kingdom and she would be married away, without Shane to protect her.

 

But right now, _right this second_ , the more pressing issue would be his own marriage, his own safety. His own freedom – the scroll in his hand was a one-way ticket to losing it completely. Several servants were staring at him as he stood, his hand going slack to his side and the other covering his mouth as he could only emit a squeak.

 

"What-What does it say, Your Majesty?" Kate, the housekeeper, let out an almost-whisper.

 

Shane shook his head, re-rolling the scroll and handing it to her. "Take this to my father. Now."

 

***

Ryan fell against his bedroom door, his back sliding down it. The case under his bed seemed to glare at him, willing him to take it and run. His only scapegoat – his refusal to marry a woman – didn't work, and he was going to have to follow through with the arranged marriage anyway. It's not that he was _scared_ , particularly, simply frustrated, that everything could be taken from him – his freedom, his life – at the first threat of danger within the kingdom.

 

All that had to happen now was King Mark agreeing, and Ryan's future would be decided for him. He would marry Prince Shane, and the two would be granted a chateau somewhere in the country on the borders of the kingdoms. But they wouldn't use it – they would opt to live in either the Quintinia or Sarana castle where they were always available for formal meetings – and then when eventually both their fathers passed, they would be the kings of Quintinia-Sarana. They would lead their separate but _oh so interconnected_ lives, unable to leave or fall in love with someone else. It sounded awful, but Ryan knew that was what it was like, the whole... _royalty_ thing.

 

A knock sounded at the door. Six times. It was his sister.

 

"Don't come in right now," he called to her, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

 

"Ryan, I'm seventeen, not stupid. Fill me in." He supplied a weak grin, even though Helen couldn't see it, and he slowly picked himself up to open the door. 

 

//

 

"So you're telling me that Mum and Dad know you're gay, and Dad's sent a message to Sarana to ask them to present Prince Shane instead?" Helen's jaw was practically hitting the floor when Ryan shrugged, confirming she'd heard everything right. "But this means—"                       

                                                                   

"Yup."

 

"You have to—"

 

"Yup."

 

"And you can't—"

 

"Nope."

 

"Wow," Helen sighed loudly. "Well you've gotta go, then."

 

It was Ryan's jaw that dropped this time. "Helen!"

 

"No, not to Sarana! To, like, Chiricome, or... Or somewhere else. I'll speak to Devin, Kelsie and Chantel, we'll sneak you out."

 

Ryan's gaze met hers desperately. "And you think it could work?"

 

"Probably quite easily, I imagine." Helen smiled proudly. "If you don't think Dev, Kels, Chantie and I don't know all the passageways around this castle then you don't truly know us, brother."

 

A feeling tweaked in Ryan's heart. Relief, maybe. Or hope.

 

***

 

"Son!" His father beamed when Shane entered the throne room apprehensively, knowing exactly which direction the conversation would be headed. It was almost exactly a week after the message had been presented; leaving plenty of time for correspondence outwith Shane's knowledge.

 

"Dad." He nodded, all-too-preoccupied with the buttons on his tunic. It was as if the two were dancing on a tentative edge of destruction, the line between victory and failure weakening before their averted eyes. Neither was making eye contact; the following conversation could make or break their father-son relationship that was struggling as it was.

 

"I have been sent a message. From King Steve."

 

"I received it. You were in a meeting."

 

"Ah," was all his father said, and there was another prolonged silence that ate away at Shane's nerves, his fingers now fumbling with the buttons. "You know, then? Of the arrangement he wishes to make?"

 

Shane only nodded, trying to choke out a reply, but even if his words hadn't failed him, the dryness of his mouth put speaking out of the question. Another drawn-out silence stretched between them. Shane could feel his father's gaze boring into him, trying to get the young Prince to make eye contact.

 

"You've said before that...that you are—"

 

"Bisexual? Yes."

 

"—And Finn is too young."

 

"I see." Shane swallowed, trying to clear the lump that had developed in his throat, trying to ignore the tears that threatened to prick the back of his eyes. He had no choice but to sign it, there was no other way; nowhere to flee. He was trapped, nothing he could do, no more time to buy. It was over. The quill side by side with the ink pot glared at him, and he fidgeted desperately. His father was still gazing at him, just willing him to pick up the quill. Shane noticed the king's signature on the other line; perfect, no mistakes or smudges, as if it was just another issue of land between tenants.

 

As if signing his son's life away was no problem.

 

Shane was still expected to sign his name. The quill felt almost too light, too simple. This was all too simple. All he had to do was write his name and his promise would be there, in black ink, for all to see. His promise to marry Prince Ryan Bergara, to sacrifice his freedom for the passage of some military power. He felt powerless.

 

The faint scratch of the nib of the quill; the shine of the wet ink. It was all well and good, wasn't it? All too convenient for everyone else – his father, creating an ally; Prince Ryan (not that Shane was blaming _him_ , it was their fathers at fault), who would get to marry someone he was somewhat attracted to; King Steve, who too would gain an ally and some much-needed support during the threat of invasion. It was all too convenient for everyone else. Not a thought was spared for him.

 

Shane didn't really expect _sympathy_ from anyone, per se. He knew arranged marriages happened all the time in royalty - hell, he had barely known his older cousins before they were married away for military strength or for bettering food and raw material imports, despite them living in the very same castle when Shane was growing up. He just hadn't known what they had felt like at all – not until this very moment. Had his cousins struggled to breathe, feeling like their chest was being tightened by a leather belt? Had all the moisture been seized from their mouths, leaving them hardly able to choke out a sentence as they signed their life over to another young Prince or Princess that had been forced to do the same?

 

Shane barely heard anything else his father had said after he dropped the quill until he dismissed him in a merry tone. Shane stumbled out of the room, blinking back the tears that had carried out their earlier threat, almost knocking over several servants during the flee to his own bedroom. He flung himself onto his bed, the ceiling blurred by the tears he was desperately trying to stop from falling. His heart was heavy; he had just signed his own life away without protest. His hands fidgeted awkwardly by his sides as the tears finally escaped, falling past his temples due to his position. He didn't wipe them away, they were merely the first raindrops of a flood.

 

***

 

Princess Helen's skirts flowed behind her as she stalked through the halls of the castle, eyes shifting every so often to watch the snowflakes drift toward the ground. They were big, almost like feathers, and they were coating the window ledges of the castle rapidly, killing hope of the flowers that grew there from doing so again any time soon.

 

Helen thought that was a fairly decent metaphor for her older brother's situation.

 

She walked in tandem with her ladies in waiting – Devin, Kelsie, and Chantel – either side of her, and the three spoke in hushed tones.

 

"What about the back passage by the stables? By night, the stable boy will be asleep, the horses will be readily available, and Ryan can be in Chiricome within a day," Devin suggested, after thinking for a moment.

 

"Impossible." Chantel shook her head. "Guard Ghang secures that corridor, remember? He's gonna notice if we try to sneak a damn Prince out of that castle. A crown Prince, at that."

 

Devin grinned, glancing at Kelsie. "Guard Ghang. You've... Y'know, with him, a few times, right?"

 

Kelsie shushed her. "Not so loud! Yes, I've slept with him, if that's what you're wondering, but I don't think he can be persuaded. He's a mysterious man, but his judgement is hardly ever clouded. We can't sway him."

 

"Hold on," Princess Helen began slowly, as if a plan was still forming in her head. "What if we didn't sneak him out? What if he left the castle in broad daylight?"

 

Her ladies stopped in their tracks. She turned around to face them. "What the hell are you talking about, Helen?" Chantie asked incredulously.

 

"A crown prince's engagement... Enough for Sarana to hold an event for, right? So what if he snuck out of the carriage and fled from Sarana instead?"

 

"Wait, that could work." Kelsie nodded. "We can't sway Guard Ghang, but do you know who we can persuade? Guard Ilnyckyj's son, Andrew."

 

"Yes." Chantel nodded exaggeratedly. "He's so kind! He'd understand in a heartbeat."

 

"We could convince your parents to travel in a separate carriage with Guard Fulmer, so Ryan could have a _proper last carriage ride_ with his siblings," Kelsie offered, and the other girls nodded.

 

"With Ilnyckyj Jr for security. He could go with Ryan, to Chiricome," Devin added.

 

"They'd eat that up without question." Helen grinned. "Guess we have ourselves a plan, girls."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! comments/kudos hugely appreciated!!
> 
> still having so much fun writing this!!! absolutely in love with this whole concept ahahsjdk


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew is in love with Steven. He just needs Chantel's help to realise it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is shorter than usual!! but its some sweet sweet standrew angst. promise it'll get better!! i cant stand any of my boys being sad,,, hope u enjoy!!

Chantel nearly slipped on the ice that decorated the courtyard, the patterns swirling around each other on the cobblestones as the heels of her boots clicked on the stone. She wasn't focusing on the beauty, however; she was rehearsing exactly what she was going to say when Andrew inevitably answered the door. Words were flashing through her mind, but she shook them away. None were even remotely elaborate or extensive enough even to _begin_ to explain what she needed them to. She pulled her cloak tighter around her, letting out a final shaky breath as she raised her fist, but her hand hesitated.

The door was black, and the paint was ageing. It was the stable, the empty one they had always played in as children. Something remarkable about the kingdom of Quintinia was that many of the children raised in the court played together, regardless of station. Guards' sons, the cook's daughter, advisors' children, the princes and princesses -  she remembered balancing on one of Prince Steven's and one of Andrew's shoulders when they were nine, to paint the silver swirls on it herself. Prince Ryan had been warily holding his arms up behind her in case she fell. They had ended up collapsing in a giggling heap, a bundle of scraped elbows and knees and tears of laughter. Steven had been scolded for getting grass stains on his tunic and Ryan, mud on his cheek.

They were eighteen, now. Steven was confined to the castle most of the time, taking on a mass of royal duties with Prince Ryan that King Steve couldn't. Chantel herself had responsibilities, as one of Princess Helen's ladies in waiting. Andrew was frequently busy trying to be the son his father wanted him to be – a guard, a musketeer, one of the king's right-hand men – whatever. Chantel saw the worry in his eyes whenever they came together with roaming hands and warm skin; the pressure that was building up on his shoulders when her hands settled over them; the blades cracked with the burden his father left looming over him.

It wasn't just that – there was another issue, one that was brooding at the back of Andrew's eyes, and Chantel couldn't just _see_ it, she could sense it. The way he stiffened up when Prince Steven was merely in the room, in the way he cast longing gazes across the way, and the fists curling at the sides at every ball or party when Steven was presented with a potential bride. Chantel could see it all.

And she wasn't _upset_ , per se. She knew they were just a _thing_ , balancing on a tentative edge of wandering hands and exploring mouths, never labelled, never nothing, but never quite _something_. She just wasn't sure if she could hold on any longer; the subject was glaring at her with piercing eyes. She had to confront him.

So that was exactly what she was going to do. Her shaking hand managed three weak knocks on the door, but it was enough. Someone padded up behind the door and as it clicked open, Chantel tried to take a deep breath and calm her nerves. It didn't really work.

Andrew grinned when he opened the door to see Chantel standing there awkwardly. He had a pail of ice water in one hand and the other was resting casually on the doorframe. "Chantie!"

"Yeah." She grimaced. Something faltered in his smile and the guilt twisted in her chest.  "Can we sit down for a minute? I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure." Her pulse was rushing in her ears and her hands were slick with cold sweat. She wiped them on her cloak as she entered the small stable. Perched on a bale of hay, she prepared herself to vocalise the words that had been swimming around her head all morning.

"Listen, I don't want to beat around the bush here, honey." She noticed her hand had been rubbing her ear absent-mindedly. She settled it back into her lap. "And I'm not assuming, or accusing, or anything, but... this... thing, I don't think your heart's in it anymore."

Andrew blinked. His expression was hard to read. "What makes you say that?"

"I'm not sure if it's been the same since we were kids, or a recent thing... but Andrew, the way you look at Prince Steven..."

"I don't know what you're talking about." His poker face hadn't faltered. Chantel sighed.

"I'm not blind," she snapped briskly, but instantly regretted it. Her tone softened as she continued. "Listen, I don't... I don't know if you're like me, where sometimes I look at Princess Helen, and think – _wow_ – you know? But... if you are, with Prince Steven, it's okay."

She met his eyes before she continued. They had softened – she swore she saw a ghost of a tear in the corner. "And if you love him, and you can't do... this... anymore, that's – that's okay too."

Andrew's lip trembled, and the unexpected happened – he began to cry. Chantel gasped softly as he let out a strangled whimper. She almost threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him and he gently sobbed into her shoulder, his entire body wracking with each one. "Maybe – maybe I do love him," he choked out. "Oh, god, I do love him. He makes it so... so _easy_ , to love him, Chan – he's – he's a prince, I couldn't ever – it's not a-allowed..."

"I know, honey." She bit her lip – this whole situation absolutely broke her heart. "I know."

***

"Steven! Sweetpea, wait there!" The prince whipped around to see Queen Sophie stalking toward him. One hand hitched up her skirts so she could walk, the other tightly clutching an envelope. She handed it to him when she reached him. "Can you find your uncle and make sure he gets this? It's an invitation to Sarana... for—"

"Ryan's betrothment." Steven swallowed. His aunt nodded, releasing her vice-like grip on the envelope, a flash of heartbreak in her eyes at the mention of her son's predicament, though her walls were built back up as soon as they came down. He placed a hand on her shoulder and his thumb glided up and down a few times. He was trying to express twelve different emotions into one gesture and it seemed to work. His aunt smiled weakly, placing a hand over his wrist and squeezing it gently.

"You seem distracted."

"Sorry... I–I'm just—my mind's on other things," he reasoned feebly.

"You're a good kid," she whispered. "Take care of him."

With that, she was away, leaving Steven with an envelope in hand and complete and utter confusion. Did she mean Ryan? He couldn't do much, especially as he would probably end up in Sarana, a kingdom away, inside another castle with a man neither of them knew. Steven would still be in Quintinia, recruiting his little cousin Jake to make up for the responsibilities Ryan would shed. How could he take care of Ryan from a completely different kingdom?

But who else could Sophie have meant? Steven shrugged, willing himself not to dwell on it, and he began his search of the halls of the castle to find his uncle.

///

The king was nowhere to be found. Steven was beyond frustrated, so he decided to take a walk in the gardens to cool off his mind. He faltered, though, when he heard voices coming from the stable.

He walked closer. It sounded like – _shit_ , was that Andrew?

And he was _crying_ – Andrew _never_ cries. There was a female voice that sounded on the verge of breaking itself, her tone shaky. He would recognise that voice anywhere. Chantel, of course.

But this revelation only made him more confused. Why was Andrew crying, and why was Chantel there, and why was she _almost_ crying?

He didn't know, but he kept walking, trying not to think about how the sound of Andrew crying made him want to break down the door and hold him close. Or about just how much his chest physically hurt at the mere concept of an upset Andrew.

_You're a good kid. Take care of him._

Steven grinned weakly to himself. _Nothing_ got past Aunt Sophie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! as always, kudos and comments greatly appreciated :)) i really do love this series ahaha

**Author's Note:**

> YALL I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS
> 
> ive been hyping my mutuals up for literally weeks okay theyre so ready for this bitches HERE IT IS XOX
> 
>  okay not much happened in this and its not very long but i have plans, lemme tell ya. great plans.
> 
> kudos and comments greatly appreciated!!


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